Crossing Streams

When I was a few days old, my mom bundled me up, got me milk-drunk, and took me with her to see Ghostbusters. It was the first movie I ever saw. Well, as much as a newborn can "watch a movie."

I have always held fast to the belief that that experience shaped me into the person I am today. That it tripped some sort of absurd humor/extreme sarcasm switch in my baby brain that otherwise would have been left alone. And I absorbed all that movie greatness like sponge. I believe it allowed me, as a little kid, to watch and actually like movies such as Caddyshack, Stripes, Spaceballs, Dragnet and Raising Arizona--movies that my parents liked to watch and didn't see any harm in letting us sit down and watch with them. And lucky for me, Harold Ramis was responsible for most of those movies I loved that were well beyond my scope of reference. His name was one of the first "movie names" I recognized. And for a long time, I thought he was my dad's long lost brother.

My heart literally sank yesterday when I read the sad, sad news that Ramis died of a painful blood disorder. To quote my friend Scott, "There is no twinkie big enough to represent my grief."


So, thank you, Harold Ramis. Thank you, subversive 80's humor. Thank you, mom and dad, for fostering in me a love of good humor. We lost a good man, a comedy legend, and the inspiration behind many modern comedies yesterday.

*Often, I wonder what would have happened, who I'd be, or where I'd be now, if my mom had decided to see a shitty 80's rom-com instead of Ghostbusters. The horror.